


I could never define all that you are to me

by SorceressSupreme



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 Times, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Community: be_compromised, F/M, ace!Natasha, demi!Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorceressSupreme/pseuds/SorceressSupreme
Summary: 5 times Natasha was unaffected seeing Clint in various states of undressand the 1 time she very much wasn't
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	I could never define all that you are to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkvoices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkvoices/gifts).



> written for the [be-compromised Valentine's promptathon]() for the [prompt](https://be-compromised.dreamwidth.org/596506.html?thread=11618074#cmt11618074): "Natasha has seen Clint naked/semi-naked plenty of times - missions, training, strip poker, early morning wake up calls, what have you - and hasn't thought anything of it. It's just a body and she's seen plenty of bodies.
> 
> Then, after some time/getting to know each other, she looks and it's like she has new eyes, or something has changed, because suddenly she's attracted to him." from inkvoices. Thanks for the great prompt, inkvoices :D
> 
> tbh I'm a little uncomfortable writing ace characters because... despite identifying as ace, I'm not sure my experiences are entirely typical! so... I'm just doin' my best and I hope it's not too outlandish for my fellow ace buds 💛

**1**  
The first time Natasha sees Clint shirtless is in the aftermath of their first mission. She regards his body with clinical detachment as she digs fragments of bullet and asphalt out of her new partner's back.

By the time the archer is wincing his way back into his uniform, she turns away, feeling uncomfortable with the ease that Clint would bare his back to her. To trust her to help instead of hurt him.

* * *

**2**  
When Clint takes off his shirt mid-sparring session, Natasha doesn't have much time to think about it outside of losing a useful grapple. With Clint's much longer reach, she needs all the advantages she can get.

Natasha pulls out a win with a headbutt, leading her to learn that Clint's head is exactly as hard as he's bragged it is.

"The shirt distraction didn't work, huh?" he grins at her.

Natasha, as a professional seductress, can see where he's going with a grin like that.

"It removed a good grapple for me, if that's what you were after."

It's easy for Natasha to shrug coolly. To not give his chest a second glance before she leaves him in the sparring ring.

* * *

**3**  
Clint pauses, hands hooked into the bottom of his shirt, but not pulling it further upwards.

"Should we… take turns?" he asks.

She can tell even when she's not fully facing him. that his eyes are picking apart her expression. 

"It's just…" Clint continues when she doesn't say anything, "Sometimes you seem uncomfortable when I…"

He finally finishes pulling his shirt off as if to explain. Natasha rolls her eyes. She's seen every sort of body in states of dress and undress since she was entirely too young. None of them have ever made her uncomfortable. Although none of them have made her… interested, either. Not in the ways the other Red Room girls would talk about the Winter Soldier's body. Or the way the other agents traded stories about catching glimpses of Barton's legendary biceps.

For a while, Natasha tried to feel the interest they felt, to see what they saw. But it was always just… bodies to her.

"Barton." she says patiently, "I'm ace. Demi-sexual if you want to really dig into it. The only thing I'm going to be uncomfortable with is if you try and insist on having sex with me. Or wonder why I don't want to have it with you."

"Oh. Well. That would be uncomfortable for anyone." Clint replies.

"Exactly."

She turns, her chef coat buttoned up and finds that Clint has already finished getting dressed, but is still staring at the wall.

"All good?" she prompts him.

Clint straightens, turning a bit too quickly to face her, "Oh yeah. Ready when you are."

* * *

**4**  
"You _owe_ me." is all Maria has to say for Natasha to appear at the Valentine's Day strip poker game at SHIELD HQ.

Clint raises a speculative eyebrow at her when she sits down at the table with him, Bobbi, Maria, Bainbridge and May.

"Good odds for me tonight." Clint leers at the group as he shuffles the cards.

May snatches the deck before reshuffling it. "Only if we let sloppy card counting like that get through."

Natasha and Bobbi snort.

Three hands later and Clint is already down to his boxers while Maria smugly deals the next hand. 

The other women make no secret of appreciating Clint's body. Natasha knows that he's got an impressive physique. For one thing: she's practiced with his bow before, mostly because she knew it would aggravate him. She follows Maria's lascivious gaze and finds herself cataloging the scars on his body— weighing the ones she knows the cause of against the ones she doesn't.

Clint catches her eye once the rest of the table is trying to determine how to play their next hand. His hands are full so he darts his gaze towards the rest of the agents before waggling his eyebrows. If she didn't know him better, she might think he was bragging. Pointing out that other women found him attractive and shouldn't she too? But she knows Clint and knows he finds their thirst as outlandish as she does.

After all, they're the only ones who've seen him stumble blindly-- literally _eyes closed_ \-- first thing in the morning to drink coffee straight out of the pot. A thought that makes her smile back at him.

* * *

**5**  
It's not often Natasha and Clint go undercover together. He’s more useful on a rooftop and she’s more effective working alone. Yet there's something effortless and satisfying having Clint playing her romantic partner. As much as she's used to wearing someone else's life over her own, it's never _easy_. 

But it's infinitely easier when Clint proposes they take advantage of their new house and throw a slumber party, making slightly disastrous microwave s'mores and building a blanket fort on top of their bed (their mark has a _thing_ for sleeping with trophy wives in their husband's beds).

"I know you sleep shirtless." Natasha says when she sees Clint hesitate before they tuck themselves into bed, "We don't know how long we'll be here, we might as well be comfortable."

"What if I sleep naked and I just put on bottoms when you're around?" Clint half-snarks. Half-yawns.

Natasha rolls her eyes, even though Clint probably can't see her in the dark. "I've seen you walk straight into a wall _in your own apartment_. There's no way you knew I was there."

“That was to lull you into a false sense of security.” Clint mumbles.

When Clint gets under the covers, Natasha can instantly tell by the heat at her back that he's shirtless.

And for the first time since they were still figuring out their partnership, the bed feels much too small for the two of them to be sharing.

* * *

**+1**  
When the snap hits, Clint isn’t with her. They’ve worked separately almost as much as together at this point, but the sudden uncertainty of not knowing if he’s… gone or not makes her feel like she’s lost a limb. Constantly off balance, reaching for something that isn’t there. But then she's needed to coordinate disaster recovery and pushes through the week (maybe two?) solely on adrenaline and her constantly ringing phone.

She never shakes the expectation for Clint to appear around every corner. For him to have suddenly arrived in however long her eyes had been closed.

And every time he isn't, she feels his absence a little more. She misses being able to read each one of Clint’s trick arrows by the fletching. She misses Clint knowing how she loads all of her gadgets and knives into her uniform. Once, she even catches herself missing his penchant for leaving pizza out on the counter all night and still eating it lukewarm the next morning.

At which point she has to admit that she doesn’t just _miss_ Clint. Certainly not only as her SHIELD partner. This… is a longing. And she might not _know_ where Clint is, but she also knows she can’t just sit around and wait for him to show up anymore.

"Sam. Cover my shift for me."

She doesn't know why she's suddenly out of breath, like she's already started running when she _hasn't_. She hopes that Sam doesn't ask because she doesn’t have an answer.

"Oh you're finally gonna take a break? Only been waiting here for the trauma crash to catch up to you." Sam answers immediately, "Let me know when you're back up and running, yeah?"

"Thank you, Sam."

"Just promise me you'll get some sleep, Nat," he adds sternly.

"Absolutely not." Natasha grins as she hangs up.

She goes to Budapest. She starts not at the safehouse they had to burn, but at the café they frequented during their last mission here. She spends a bit of time there, ordering her favorite sandwich of theirs. Then she spirals out from the café until she finds a top level room with good enough sightlines to serve as a famous “Hawkeye Nest”. She lockpicks the door as quietly as possible. A nocked arrow greets her when the door swings open.

It feels like she only blinks, but the next thing she knows, Clint's bow is clattering to the floor. He catches her at the some moment her arms close around his neck.

It's about now that Natasha realizes Clint is inexplicably shirtless. And with this realization, her mouth is suddenly dry. Her body feels suddenly ten degrees too hot. And she… can't _say anything_.

Clint pulls back far enough for him to see her face. "Nat?"

Natasha watches his pupils dilate as he takes in her own expression. It's a reaction she's seen on hundreds of marks. Never has it made her breath catch and a heat sear through her core.

She unwinds herself from him so she can cup his face in her hands. "All good?" she smiles shakily. Hopefully.

"Oh." Clint breaths out, lowering his forehead to rest against hers. "Definitely. Ready when you are."


End file.
